


Holding Out For a Hero

by Dangereux



Category: Orphan Black (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 21:23:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4321242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dangereux/pseuds/Dangereux
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cophine fluff. "The first time I met the girl of my dreams, she was staring at me like I was a complete lunatic." AU(ish) Cosima helps a new neighbour get over her problem with nightmares. Cuddling ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Holding Out For a Hero

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The first time I met the girl of my dreams, she was staring at me like I was a complete lunatic.

To be fair, I _had_ just kicked down her front door.

Also, I might have only been dressed in a tank top and my underwear.

And brandishing a baseball bat.

But seriously, my motives were totally heroic. She had just moved in a few weeks before. I couldn’t even believe my luck when I first saw her, because not only was that metal-loving, fish-frying, loud sex-having dickhead from next door moving out, but he was being replaced by an extremely, stupidly, impossibly good looking hot doctor. At least, I was pretty sure she was a doctor. She came home at all hours wearing scrubs, so I made the assumption. Anyway, we hadn’t actually been formally introduced. The couple of times I had seen her, I was either rushing out the door, or on my phone. Both times she gave me a friendly smile and a wave (that admittedly made me weak in the knees) but that was the extent of our interactions.

Until, you know, the door kicking.

Leading up to what shall forevermore be known as “The Incident”, I was in my apartment, smoking a joint and working on my dissertation, completely minding my own business. It was like, four in the afternoon but I still hadn’t technically gotten dressed yet because I was kind of in a groove with my writing, and I didn’t want to stop in case I lost my mojo. Hence the underwear. And the lack of bra. My fingers flew across the keys to my laptop, body swaying to the record player, when a loud moan cut through the air. I stopped typing, body stilling. “ _What the…”_ I looked over my shoulder towards the hall, ear cocked.

 When no other sounds followed, I leaned forward and took a swig of my luke-warm beer, figuring I’d maybe I’d taken one hit too many. Giving my neck a crack, I squared my shoulders and returned to my laptop. Furrowing my eyebrows as I tried to remember where I had left off, I chewed absent-mindedly on the end of a pencil in concentration.  Out of the relative silence, a second even louder moan caused me to jump in surprise, nearly enucleating myself with the pencil. Curious and not just a little freaked out, I got up and moved toward the wall, the one that connected mine with the doctor’s next door. I pressed my ear to it, straining to hear though the layers of drywall and insulation. After nearly a minute, I had almost convinced myself that the sound was coming from someone’s TV, and was just about to get back to work when a piercing scream tore through the wall. I jumped back about three feet, stumbling in an effort to stay upright. “Shit!”

Another scream ripped through the sleepy afternoon, and I turned on my heel and bolted towards my bed. Bare feet slapping on the hardwood, I flung my body on the floor next to my bed, feeling around blindly until my fingers closed on the cool aluminum of the bat stowed underneath (which I keep for just such ass-kicking occasions) and tore out of my apartment.

Thinking back, I probably should have knocked. Okay, I definitely should have knocked. But adrenaline had totally taken over, and I was just running on instinct. I tried the handle to her apartment. The dead bolt was off, allowing the door to swing open an inch, but she’d put the chain on. I grunted as my body bounced back against it, goosebumps running up my arms as loud sobs erupted from the other side. Stuck, I did what any normal hero would do. I backed up and ran at the door full tilt until I came bursting into her apartment in a magnificent shower of wood splinters, screws, and uttered curse words. Actually, mistaken situation aside, it was pretty damn epic. Or at least, I thought so, until I saw her face.

Her apartment was a studio, like mine, only the bedroom area was on the opposite side. As soon as I came barreling in, bat at the ready, I realized my mistake. She sat up in bed, hair a glorious halo of blond curls, and stared at me with her mouth open and her eyes wide. My eyes immediately dropped to her chest, jaw slackening at the realization that her (admittedly amazing) breasts were completely bare. Her chest was heaving with shock and I was like 95% sure I detected a glint of rage mixed in with the utter bewilderment in those hazel eyes.

The aluminum bat fell out of my hand, clattering to the floor with a ringing thud as I rushed to cover my eyes. “I am… _so sorry_ ” I stammered.

“What in the hell are you doing?!” she countered, having finally found her voice.

_Oh god. She’s French._

I sputtered, keeping my eyes scrunched shut as my hands waved manically, “I-I heard screaming and so I came over in what I now realize was a completely unnecessary rescue attempt. But I thought that maybe you were being attacked so I—“

“So you thought you would kick down the door and scare the hell out of me?! _Merde!_ You couldn’t have tried knocking?!”

At this point, I felt my temper flare a little, and I opened my eyes, allowing my gaze to meet hers. I noticed she’d pulled the sheet up to cover herself. “Look,” my hand shot up, finger pointing at her accusingly, “You were screaming your head off like you were being murdered, so excuse me for trying to do the neighborly thing and come to your rescue, okay? You think I don’t have better things to do with my afternoon then go and rescue gorgeous women?” I cursed myself inwardly for letting that one slip out, but it couldn’t be helped. Even though she was kind of pissing me off, she was still the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.  I saw her face soften at the remark. “I was in the middle of writing a paper, I’ll have you know, and I—“ I stopped mid-sentence as I realized her face had broken in to a warm grin, and she was clearly trying to suppress a giggle.

“I’m sorry, is this funny now?” I asked, still a bit pissed and completely unsure what was happening.

She kept one arm on the sheet covering her breasts, the other raking through those insane curls of hers. “What is your name?” she asked softly, gesturing for me to pass her the black silk robe that was resting on the chair beside me.

“Cosima…” I answered, still suspicious. I picked up the robe and brought it to her, completely sure that as soon as I was in arms reach she was going to slap me.

Instead, she took it gently from my hands, looking up at me with a smile. “I’m Delphine.”

“Delphine,” I repeated, testing the name on my tongue, “Okay.”

She smiled even bigger, slipping the robe quickly over her shoulders. “Well, Cosima,” she began, throwing back her covers and hauling herself out of bed, “I’m sorry for yelling at you.” She stood to her full height, long legs bare beneath the short robe. I took a step back, flustered as I felt the heat of her body suddenly next to mine. “I was just…”she searched for the word, “very uh, _surprised_. But actually,” she continued, walking to the door and inspecting the damage I’d inflicted, “it was very valiant of you, to come to my rescue.”

Adrenaline rush long gone, and anger completely dissipated (seriously who could stay mad at this person) I walked over to where she stood at the door, running a hand over the splintered wood. “I’m sorry for scaring the bejesus out of you,” I began, stealing a sideways glance at her. “And then for yelling at you, after that. And for breaking your door. And for not putting on a bra today.”

She laughed, her eyes flicking down to my chest, causing my heart to stop beating for a full ten seconds. Before I could figure out whether she did in fact, totally check me out, I realized she was talking again. “It’s okay. I am glad to live next to someone who will come to my rescue. It’s very reassuring. Not everyone would run _towards_ the sound of danger, you know.”

I felt a cocky grin spread across my face, finger toying with the broken chain. “Yeah, well, I’m pretty badass, so.”

Delphine laughed again, her eyes taking in my petite frame. “Yes, I can see that.”

“So, were you like, having an epic nightmare or something like that?” I asked.

The smile on her face flickered for a moment, and she looked at the floor, her bare feet shifting. “Oh, yes. That. I sometimes have very bad dreams. They make me scream but I don’t know that I’m doing it. I’m very sorry for frightening you.”

“Oh hey, no worries,” I replied, waving my hands dismissively. “I’ve had this recurring nightmare since I was a kid that this evil clown is chasing me through my house. I think it stems from this terrifying birthday party I attended in second grade. It scares the shit out of me every time.” Her smile returned to her face then, and my stomach clenched. I knew right then that I would do or say anything, no matter how foolish or cheesy, to keep her smiling that way for as long as possible. Grinning like a fool, I turned my attention back to the door. “You know, I could screw this chain back in place for you. Since I was, technically, the one that busted it.”

“Oh, really? You are not only a hero, but a handy-man as well?” She asked, her hands moving to her hips. The movement caused the robe she was wearing to gape at the chest, the hem raising up the length of her thigh. I fought valiantly to keep my gaze from dropping, though I couldn’t stop my tongue from snaking across my bottom lip. My brain worked furiously. _Is she flirting with me?_ _Did I seriously just manage to charm a woman mere minutes after kicking her door down, wearing only my Iron Man underwear and the black tank top that has that hole in it I keep forgetting to fix?_

Instead of saying anything mildly coherent, I laughed nervously, rubbing the back of my neck with my hand. “Yeah, I’m full of surprises.”

She nodded, “Yes, I believe that. Well,” she began, bending down to pick up one of the screws that had flown off, “since we have both already seen each other in a state of undress, and yelled at each other, I believe that we may safely skip the usual customs of getting to know your neighbor, and go straight to the part where we are already good friends.”

It took me a moment to register what she had said, since I had been studiously staring at her ceiling and not at where her robe was riding up as she knelt on the floor. But once she stood, her face all warm smiles, eyes expectant, and placed three screws in my sweaty palm, I felt my chest tighten with affection. A huge grin spread across my face as I stuttered the words, “Y-yeah, of course!” Gaining some semblance of composure, I nodded furiously, “Yeah, Delphine, I would really like to uh,” I pushed my glasses further up my nose, “to be your friend.”

A smile stretched across her face and I had to stop myself from reaching out to run my fingers over those lips. “Well, then, Cosima. Since we are friends, why don’t we both get dressed, and then you can come over and fix my door. And in return, I will make you dinner.”

I could feel my eyes lighting up at the idea of spending an evening with this woman. “Yeah! Yeah that sounds perfect,” I nodded, walking over to where I’d dropped my bat and sheepishly bending down to pick it up. “If you want, I could bring over a movie to watch, too?”

I turned around to see her watching me, an expression in her eyes I couldn’t quite read. A faint blush spread across her cheeks and her chest. “Wonderful. I would love that. Come back over whenever you are ready,” she replied, heading over to her windowsill with a pack of cigarettes in her hand. I nodded, not quite able to believe what was happening, and headed over to her busted door, reaching out to pull it open. My name on her lips stopped me and I turned around, expectant. She was seated gracefully on the windowsill, long legs dangling, expertly blowing smoke out the side of her mouth before she brought her eyes back to mine. “How about Iron Man?”

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We never really talked about her nightmares, or The Incident, after that first night. True to her word, we quickly became very good friends, and there didn’t seem to be any reason to think back on that first day we’d met. It kinda seemed like we’d always been friends, as cliché as that sounds. It was actually weird, how comfortable I felt around her. And I think she felt just as at ease around me too. We drank wine, and laughed, watched Iron Man, and all the other movies whose characters graced my underwear. We filled each other in on our lives. It turned out she was a doctor, but not the medical kind. We stayed up half the night talking about her research, about what I wanted to do when my dissertation was done.

The first few weeks of our friendship passed quickly, and it wasn’t until one night nearly two months later, that the reason for our first, uh _passionate_ meeting came up again. It was nearly two am when I heard footsteps, heavy with fatigue, pass by my door and stop in front of hers. I knew it was her door, because since my little stunt, it creaked loudly every time you opened it. I pushed my glasses up on my head, rubbing my fatigued eyes and standing to stretch. Drawn to her presence, I found myself walking to the wall that joined our apartments, leaning my back up against it.

I could never really tell how she felt about me. I would sometimes catch her looking at me, like when I was helping her chop vegetables for dinner, or when we were sitting on her deck drinking a beer in the sunset. But a few stolen glances don’t exactly mean that a girl’s in love. And I wasn’t about to risk our friendship on it, even if I was, like, stupidly into her. I let my head fall back against the wall, hoping rather than expecting to hear a soft knock from her on the other side. We’d worked out a knocking system –or at least, I had forced her to use a knocking system because I thought it was cool–to let the other person know if you were home and available for a hangout. I strained my ears to hear anything that might be construed as an invitation to come over, but all I heard was the sound of the pipes creaking to life as she turned on the shower. I sighed, somewhat deflated, and realized that it was 2am and she probably thought I was asleep. I briefly considered purposely making noise so that she’d know I was awake, before I realized how totally desperate that would be. So instead I brushed my teeth and fell into bed in my usual uniform of tank top and underwear.

I was passed out – hard –for the better part of an hour before I was pulled from sleep by what sounded like a long, low moan. Squinting in the dark, I sat up on an elbow, listening. All I could hear was the sound of the building settling around me, the soft thud of the bass from the downstairs neighbours’ music, laughter from the street floating through my open windows. I relaxed, putting my head back down, my eyes just starting to close, when the sound of sobbing tore through the wall from Delphine’s apartment. _Shit._ I sat bolt upright, putting my glasses on as I swung my bare legs out of bed.

I paused, forcing myself to think for a second. _Maybe it’ll stop. Maybe she’s not even having a nightmare. As if she wants me bursting in on her when she’s just trying to have a cry._ I crept to the wall separating us and knocked loudly, once. The only response was a gulping sob, even louder than before. At this rate, if I didn’t do something, another neighbour might. _Fuck it._ I moved away from the wall, though this time instead of reaching for my bat, I reached instead for a spare set of keys in the bowl next to my front door. Delphine had given them to me two weeks ago with a wink and a “Just in case I’m in need of a hero.”

Keys in hand, I ducked into the hall, shoved the keys into the lock, and prayed she hadn’t put on the chain. The door opened with a groan and I let myself in, locking it behind me. “Delphine?” I called, straining to see as my eyes adjusted to the dark. “Delphine, it’s me!” Her sobs were becoming frantic, her breathing ragged, as I groped my way towards her. “OW! Son of a –“ I hissed as I completely obliterated my knee on her kitchen table. I clutched it for a second, eyes clamped shut in pain, before limping determinedly to her bed. The bed sank down as I sat gently on the edge, now able to see the outline of her tear stained face in the dark. I reached out and took her by the shoulders, giving her a gentle shake. “Delphine, wake up!”

She opened her eyes with a soft gasp, her hands flying up to clamp onto my wrists.  I felt her body tensing as she looked up at me in complete bewilderment. The tracks of her tears were glinting in the soft light coming from her window, eyelashes sparkling as she blinked in utter confusion. My mouth went dry, any explanation for why in the hell I was sitting on her bed at 3am completely caught in my throat at the sight of how painfully beautiful she looked. Before I could muster any semblance of coherent thought, she sat up, breathing still ragged, released her grip on my wrists, and laid her head on my shoulder with a defeated sigh.

“Hey,” I said gently, “hey it’s okay.” I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer, and she responded by snaking her arms around my waist. She was still breathing quickly, but I could feel her body relaxing as I held her. “It was just a dream, Delphine,” I whispered into her hair, tracing my fingers along the ridges of her spine, “You’re safe now.” Lost in how good it felt to hold her, my fingers skated along her skin, making their way up her back, tangling in her hair. I raked my fingernails gently along her scalp, and she let out a soft moan. Only, this one wasn’t like the anguished and terrified moans from her nightmares. It was deeper, softer, and it made my stomach clench. I felt her body stiffen again, and she pulled out of my grasp, sitting up to look me in the eye. If it hadn’t been so dark, I would have sworn I saw a flush creeping across her cheeks.

“Cosima, I am so sorry for waking you at such an ungodly hour like this,” she said softly. “What a terrible neighbour I am to you.”

I squeezed her arm affectionately. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Besides, I’ve been wanting to practice my response time. I’m thinking it would be faster if next time I just barrel straight through the wall itself, rather than wasting time with the door.”

She laughed, ducking her head as she hooked her wild mane of curls behind her ear. “Thank you, for coming to my rescue again.”

I smiled, “Well it just so happened that this time I _didn’t_ have anything better to do than rescue a gorgeous woman from her nightmares, so. You were lucky.” I realized that I still holding her, my thumbs playing over the skin of her arms, and I reluctantly let her go, my arms falling to my sides. Her smile faltered for a second, but she let out a soft chuckle and reached out to squeeze my knee.

I saw her eyebrows draw together with a frown and followed the line of her gaze down to her palm. She held it out to me, and even in the dim light I could see that it was dark with blood. “Cosima, what…?” she asked, looking up at me with concern.

I looked down at my knee, “Oh! Yeah. That. I may or may not have had a _slight_ altercation with your kitchen table during my rescue mission. Sorry, I’m probably like bleeding all over your bed aren’t I?” I asked, standing to assess the damage. I glanced over at her and she was looking up at me with a mixture of disbelief and amusement in her eyes.

“Cosima are you apologizing to me for bleeding? After you injured yourself running to help me?”

I faltered. “Uh…yes.” I gave her a winning smile and with an eyeroll she reached over and turned on her bedside lamp. I blinked, momentarily blinded, and by the time I refocused she was out of bed, pulling a hoodie on over her long t-shirt and shorts.

She walked towards me, wrapped her long fingers around my arm, and hauled me to the bathroom by my wrist, pointing to the toilet. “Sit.”

“Oh, Dr. Cormier, I like it when you’re bossy,” I teased, sinking down to the toilet and inspecting my knee, which actually did look pretty gross. She raised her eyebrow at me, a glint of laughter in her eyes, and passed me some toilet paper. “Just hold this on it and quit being so cheeky.” Kneeling down, she began rummaging in the cupboard under the sink. “Uh, Delphine? Not that I’m not totally enjoying the view, but what are you doing?” I asked sweetly.

She turned around and swatted me on my non-damaged knee. “I was looking for my first aid kit.” She pulled out a red zipped bag and dug out several items. Unscrewing the cap on a bottle of antiseptic, she sat on the tub next to me and pulled the toilet paper off my wound. “This will sting,” she said briefly, before upending what felt like liquid fire across my knee.

I yelped, my whole body jerking, and instinctively knocked the bottle of cleanser from her hands, it hit the floor and rolled into the hall. “Shit, Delphine that _hurt!”_ I sputtered, _“_ ‘ _This will sting’_ , seriously?! That was like, the biggest euphemism of all time!”

She was looking at me with raised eyebrows and was clearly trying to hold back a laugh. “Well who knew you were such a baby?! Aren’t you supposed to be a hero?”

“Okay, excuse you, but I’m pretty sure I jacked up my knee to help you out, the least you can do is like, have a nice bedside manner while you’re tending to my battle wounds.”

“Even if your ‘battle’ was with a table leg?” she asked, biting her lip to keep a giant grin from spreading across her face.

I glared at her. “ _Especially_ if it was with a table leg, Delphine.”

She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Will you let me finish, or not?”

I sighed. “Fine, go ahead, saw the whole thing off if you must.”

She scoffed and laid some gauze gently over the wound, staunching the last of the blood. I hissed as she moved the gauze over a particularly tender area and she whispered, “ _Ma pauvre petite chiot_.”

I didn’t even bother to ask what it meant because at that moment, drunk on the feeling of her touch, I was just concentrating on not grabbing her by the back of the head and kissing her furiously. I watched her face as she concentrated, and a thought struck me. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Her eyes flew to my face. “About what?”

“Your nightmares,” I answered. “I just figured, whatever it is you’re dreaming about, it probably isn’t a clown from a birthday party.” That much was clear from the terror in her wracking sobs.

She shook her head, her smile fading as she looked up at me with damp eyes. “Maybe some other time.”

I nodded, leaving her to her thoughts. After a few minutes my leg was bandaged and I bent my knee a couple of times, testing it out.

“How does it feel?” she asked, watching me with amusement.

“As good as can be expected, considering a certain sadistic doctor poured battery acid on it,” I quipped.

She sighed, leaning back, and scrubbed her hands over her face. It was then that I realized it was nearly 4am. I stood, a feeling of disappointment sinking in my stomach. I didn’t want to go. “Well, I should probably go,” I sighed, moving to walk past her.

She looked like she was about to say something, but then thought better of it, her mouth closing into a tight line. “Yes, of course, you must be so tired. I’m sorry again, for waking you. And for your…battle wound,” she joked, though there was a tightness around her eyes that made me feel like it was forced.

“Delphine, are you okay?” I asked, stopping in my tracks.

“Yes, of course,” she replied, nodding too quickly for me to believe her.

“Hey,” I said gently, reaching out to skim my fingers across hers. “Tell me.”

She was shaking her head, a self-deprecating smile creeping across her features. “I just…it’s so silly of me I know. I am a grown woman. But I just thought…” She wrung her hands together, biting her lip, “Would it be strange if…that is, would it be inappropriate of me to ask…” she couldn’t seem to finish her sentence, and she looked at me, imploring me to understand what she wanted.

I felt my eyebrows raise, my heart pounding in my ears as I realized what she was asking. “Delphine are you…do you want me to stay?” I asked tentatively, twisting my fingers as nervous energy coursed through my body. _Of course she doesn’t want you to stay, you goddamned idiot, now you’ve gone and made it weird, now she’s never going to—_

“Yes,” she answered softly, her eyes searching mine.

_Oh god._ I dropped my hands, nodding, “Okay, well. Of course. Of course I’ll stay,” I answered. Her body seemed to relax at my answer, eyes closing for a brief moment before she broke out in a smile.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to,” she warned, raising her palms up. “It’s really not a problem if you’d rather not. I feel so stupid for asking,” she rambled, obviously embarrassed that she’d asked me to stay over. Totally adorable.

I stepped towards her, my fingers reaching out to grasp her wrist as she had mine, and towed her out of the bathroom, stopping beside the bed and pointing. “Sit.”

She laughed, “Is this bossy Cosima?” she asked, removing her sweater and obeying my order.

I moved around to the opposite side and climbed in next to her. “Oh, you have no idea,” I teased, settling myself under the covers. My brain and body felt like they were in complete overdrive, thoughts racing, palms sweating. _Oh my god I’m in bed with fucking Delphine Cormier._ Trying my best to stay cool, I took a deep breath, pulling off my glasses and setting them on the table next to me.

“Hey, let me see,” I heard her say next to me, her hand reaching out to grasp my chin. She turned my face towards her, “I’ve never seen you without your glasses.”

My breath caught in my chest. “A-and?” I stammered. “Totally hideous?”

I felt her thumb slide across my cheek as she said so softly I almost didn’t hear. “No, Cosima. You are as beautiful as always.” My mind halted, cogs screeching to a stop, synapses shorting out. _Whoa._ If I only could have seen her face, I might have been able to tell what she meant by that. But as it was, she was only a blurry outline next to me, and before I could decide how to respond, her hand was gone from my face, and I felt her body shifting away to turn out the light.

Plunged into darkness, I moved to lie down next to her, unsure of what else to do. But something in the way her voice sounded, something in the soft touch of my cheek, and the look in her eyes when she’d asked me to stay –as if she was so terrified of being rejected –made me reach for her.

“Hey,” I said softly, reaching over to pull gently on her arm, “Come here.” At first I thought she hadn’t heard me, or (like, a billion times worse) had heard me and pretended that she didn’t. But after a half-second’s hesitation, she shifted herself over, cuddling up against my side, and rested her head on my shoulder. I put my arms around her and felt her settle against me, trying to stifle my smile as she left out a contented sigh.

“Thank you, Cosima,” she said into my neck.

“Sweet dreams, Delphine.”

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I knew I was pretty much screwed after that.

Knowing what it felt like to feel her heart beat against me, to have her arms reach for me in the dark, to wake up to her grinning face, it was all over. I couldn’t think about anything else. I didn’t want anything else. I tossed and turned every night, sheets tangled up in my legs, unable to settle down. Unable to stop thinking about the fact that she was only a few feet away from me. Sometimes, I could have sworn I heard her tossing and turning too.

Her nightmares became more frequent, after that. It’s like my body had a Delphine radar. I would wake immediately at the slightest sound from her; jump out of bed (trying not to feel too elated that she was having some sort of horrendous nightmare) and reach for the keys to her place. We’d kind of worked out an unspoken routine, a private ritual, for those moments. I would let myself in to her place, wake her gently. She would immediately reach for me, eyes barely open, mumbling my name or a sleepy apology, and pull me into bed with her. And I would hold her all night, until she fell asleep, her breath rushing hot and even against my neck. I’d touch her gently, stroke her arms, run my fingers across her back and through her hair. All the things I wasn’t brave enough to do in the light of day. She would often sling a leg across mine, in a strangely possessive posture, arms wrapped tightly around me as though I was her life preserver. Maybe that’s how it was for her. Clinging to me to keep the dreams away. I was happy to do it. I don’t think I’d ever felt happier, actually. As totally sappy as that is.

It got to the point where I actually prayed for her to be tortured by her dreams, just so I would get the chance to hold her. So pathetic. In our day to day lives, not much had changed between us, really. Though I noticed she was more generous with her body. She’d touch me more, grab my leg when she laughed, skim her fingers across my neck as I helped her make dinner in the kitchen, rest her head on my shoulder while we watched TV. With any other girl, I would have gone for it long ago. But with her, I was too terrified she didn’t feel the same. I was too terrified to lose what I had.

And I was too damned distracted by everything about her to make any progress on my dissertation. Nearly two months after my first sleepover with Delphine, I’d been so constantly out of my mind over her that I’d barely managed to string together a sentence. Sitting at my desk I flopped back against my chair and groaned, jamming the heels of my palms into my eyes, the cursor of my word document blinking at me accusingly. My advisors were going to kill me.

Leg jiggling in antsy frustration, I lit a joint and looked at the clock. _Christ. 1am and nothing to show for it._ I rose to blow the smoke out of my open window, letting the warm night air fill my lungs, my eyes closing as the drug warmed the edges of my mind. A soft knock from across the room made my eyes fly open, startling so badly I nearly dropped my joint out the window. Collecting myself, I butted it in the ashtray and walked over to the wall separating my apartment from Delphine’s, convincing myself the knock had been wishful thinking. But as I reached the wall, another knock sounded, a little more sharply. I reached my hand out and rapped my knuckles in reply, heart soaring in anticipation as I heard Delphine’s door creaking open in the hall.

I quickly raced to grab my old cereal bowls and beer bottles from my desk, dumping them noisily in the sink as I heard my front door open. I turned around to see a pale-looking Delphine shutting the door behind her, a sheepish look on her face. “Hi Cosima. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

I pushed my glasses up my nose, “No! No, not at all, just doing a little late-night cleaning,” I smiled, the dishes shifting in the sink behind me.

“I see that,” she smiled wryly. “Still not making any progress on your dissertation, I take it?” she asked, crossing the room towards me.

I shook my head. “Not really. But anyway, uh, is everything okay?”

“Of course, why?” she asked, perching herself on the desk next to my computer.

“Because it’s one o’clock in the morning?” I asked, quirking an eyebrow.

“It is, isn’t it,” she replied, hooking her hair behind an ear. “I was just having trouble falling asleep, and I thought I heard you up and about, so I thought we could be…not asleep together,” she explained with laugh. Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, though. And now that she was closer, I could see dark rings underneath them.

“Why do I get the feeling you’re not telling me everything,” I asked, walking towards her. She had quite a few inches on me, but she shrank back a little under my gaze. I put my hands on her arms, forcing her to look me in the eye. “You can talk to me, Delphine.”

Her eyes were shining with tears. “Just a bad day, Cosima. A bad day, and you always make me feel better. You always know how to make it right. And I need that right now. I need _you_.” I blinked in shock at the confession, my heart in my throat to hear her speak to me so candidly. Tears were leaking out the sides of her eyes now, her bottom lip trembling. I pulled her against me, and she collapsed into my arms, sobbing as she clung to me.

“I’m right here, Delphine. I’ve got you, okay?” I whispered, and felt her nod into my neck. I held her, whispering platitudes into her ear, until her sobs subsided. She pulled back from my arms, sniffling, eyes rimmed with red.

“You must think I’m crazy,” she laughed. “Always causing a scene.”

“I don’t think you’re crazy,” I answered. “I think you’re amazing. And I think you’re hurting.”

She smiled at me wetly and shrugged. “Oh Cosima. I’m not amazing at all.”

“Shh,” I soothed, swiping away the tears spilling from her eyes. “Don’t say that, Delphine.” She looked at me then, her eyes full of what I could have sworn was adoration.

“Oh, Cosima. I think I should tell you…” she trailed off, looking down, biting her lip, “well I should probably tell you a lot of things. But the first thing is…” My hands were still gripping her shoulders, and it took everything I had not to dig my fingers into her skin in anticipation. My heart was pounding in my chest. _Please, please, please…_ “I think it’s time I tell you about my nightmares.”

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She sat across from me, perched on the windowsill, chain smoking. She had a glass of wine in one hand, and I sipped at a glass of my own, watching her. Waiting. I knew whatever she was going to tell me was something important, something she didn’t normally share. And I wanted to be present. But seeing her profile silhouetted against the inky night sky behind her, seeing the cherry on her cigarette glow as she took another deep drag, all I could think about was how deeply, and stupidly, I was in love with her.

She cleared her throat and I snapped to attention. If she had noticed me unabashedly staring at her, she gave no indication that she minded. “I’ve been having these…well the doctors call them ‘night terrors’, for quite a few years now. Twenty to be precise. Twenty years to the day.” I swallowed, watched her take another drag of her cigarette. “They started because of an accident.” She said the word “accident” as though it was not “an” accident, but _The Accident_. Capitalized. Something that has been referred to many times, and painfully. “I had a little sister, you know,” she continued, her eyes gazing out the window at nothing in particular. “Her name was Mylène. She was two years younger than me. We were very close. Best friends, really.”

She smiled to herself, flicked ash off the end of her cigarette. “We went for a bike ride one day, not far from our house. We did it all the time. My friend Emilie was with us, she lived across the street. I was supposed to be watching Mylène, you know. I was her big sister. But I was busy, laughing about something with Emilie, and I didn’t see that she had ridden ahead. I didn’t see as she rode right past a stop sign, but I heard the sound when she was hit…” Delphine’s voice trailed off, her mind full of anguished memories. When she spoke again, her voice was broken, but she was determined to finish the story, speaking quickly to get it over with.

“Emilie and I, we ran to her. The driver, he didn’t even stop. He fled like a coward. There was so much blood, I didn’t know what to do. Emilie took off to get my parents. I knelt next to Mylène and I held her, and her blood ran down my arms. The doctors say she died on impact. I knew that she was gone, but I couldn’t let her go. I held her so tightly. And I screamed. I didn’t even know I was screaming, but my mother tells me that I never stopped, not until my voice gave out many hours later.”

Tears were spilling over my cheeks as I listened to her tell this story, her voice and face so full of emotion. “My parents, they always said it wasn’t my fault. They always said they didn’t blame me. I don’t know that I ever believed them, really. Because it was. It was my fault,” she said resolutely, flicking her cigarette butt out the window and taking a large sip of wine. “I should have been watching her. But I wasn’t. And she died. Twenty years ago today, she died. My Mylène. And I see it, over and over, in my dreams. I hold her, screaming, just like I did that day, night after night.” She shrugged gracefully, looked at me with a sad smile, and said “Because I deserve it.” Her words cut me like a knife. Here was this extraordinary woman, so intelligent, so kind, so special. And so haunted by the guilt of something that wasn’t her fault to begin with. The image of her lying in the street, holding her sister, made my stomach knot with emotion.

I stood up, set my wine glass down, and crossed the room. She turned her face to me, eyes widening, so afraid of what I was about to say. I took her face in my hands, the conviction clear in my voice as I spoke. “Delphine Cormier, you listen to me. You were a child. A little girl. What happened was a terrible, terrible accident. And it shouldn’t have happened. But it was not your fault. Do you hear me? _It was not your fault_. You don’t need to punish yourself for it anymore.” She looked up at me, errant tears sliding out the sides of her wide eyes.

And then she kissed me.

It took several seconds of her lips pressed softly against mine for me to even realize what had happened. And even though I knew she was hurting, even though I knew that it wasn’t the right time, I couldn’t stop myself from kissing her back. I don’t think anything could have stopped that. My hands were still on her face, and I felt her own slide up my sides as she pulled me closer, spreading her legs so I could stand in between them. I deepened the kiss, my tongue sliding over hers. She tasted like wine, and cigarettes, and it drove me insane. She hooked her legs around mine and cinched me against her, hands dipping under the back of my shirt to trail her nails up my spine. I moaned into her mouth as I dropped my hands from the sides of her face and ran them through her hair, down her back. I felt her hands sliding up my stomach as her tongue explored my mouth, and it wasn’t until I felt her thumbs graze the underside of my breasts that I grabbed her hands and stilled them with my own, pulling back.

We both stared at each other, breathless, panting. She looked at me with confusion, hurt flickering in her eyes. “Delphine, I…I want this, I do. I’ve wanted this for a long time. But you’re so upset right now and I wouldn’t want you to regret anything later on.”

She started up at me, her wrists still captured by my own. “Cosima, do you think I’m using you to make myself feel better?”

“No!” I replied hastily, dropping her wrists to cradle her chin in my hand. “No, Delphine, I don’t think that at all. I just thought that…I don’t want to... I always pictured that for our first time, neither of us would be, like….crying.”

Her eyes glittered. “You have been picturing our ‘first time’?” she asked.

“Oh! Uh,” I scratched the back of my head, “Well to be honest, I’m kind of head over heels for you,” I blurted. “So yeah, I’ve pictured us doing a lot of things, yes.”

She grinned. “Cosima. I would be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it as well.” My heart stopped. “That was one of the other things I wanted to tell you, actually.” She ducked her head down, took one of my hands in her own. “I actually came over here tonight not because I wanted to use you to make me forget about Mylène, but because I thought that maybe we could create a new happy memory for this day. So when this date approaches each year, I won’t think upon it with dread, but with happiness. Does that make sense?” I nodded dumbly. “Because, really, I fell for you from the moment you kicked down my door, wearing nothing but your underwear and a scowl.”

I rushed forward and kissed her, hard. But she was ready. She leaned into the kiss, her fingers hooking into the fabric of my shirt as she slid her tongue into my mouth. I pulled her to her feet and turned us around, stumbling towards the direction of my bed. I pulled her shirt over her head and she fumbled with the button of my jeans, sliding them halfway down my thighs as her own hit the edge of my bed. My eyes devouring all her newly exposed skin, I pushed her down and shucked off my pants the rest of the way, yanking hers off before I climbed on top of her.

I looked down at her, her chest heaving, eyes dark, and started to feel light headed from the overwhelming reality that this was really and truly happening. She reached for me, thumb brushing over my lips. “Come here,” she whispered. I bent down, still straddling her, and kissed her slowly. She used the strength of those long legs of hers to flip us over until I was on my back, a laugh escaping my throat. She smiled widely, her fingers snaking down my stomach to ghost over the fabric of my underwear. My legs started to shake at the mere hint of her touch, and I stopped her hand with my own.

“No. Tonight is for you,” I whispered.

She grinned even wider, “ _Non, mon amore,_ tonight is for both of us. Remember?” She slid her fingers under the elastic of my underwear, my eyes rolling back in my head as I felt her touch me.

I gasped, knees automatically spreading wider before I stopped her a second time. “Okay, Delphine, but please. You first.”

She grinned, sliding off my hips and pulling me back on top of her. “Whatever you say,” she answered, her voice throaty and deep and completely unraveling me from the inside out. I dropped kisses along the column of her throat, moving my hips against hers and feeling her press back into me. I slid my hand into the top of her underwear and slicked my fingers between her legs, letting out a gasp at how wet she was. I dragged my fingers across her, exploring, and she whined into my ear “Oh don’t tease me, I won’t last very long at all.”

I laughed as I slid my fingers into her, both of us groaning at the feeling, and moved my hips into her. “We have all night. There’s plenty of time for taking it slow, later.” She nodded, and I placed my hand so my palm was hitting her clit gently as we moved together. I was lost in the sensation of her, the feeling of her muscles tightening around me, the smell of her, the taste of her, and what seemed like only moments later I noticed her breathing start to quicken. Her eyes were scrunched shut, fingernails digging into my back. “Hey,” I whispered, “Look at me.”

She opened her eyes as we moved together, and looked at me with an expression of such open affection that I felt tears welling up in my eyes. Gazes locked, I tried to channel all the love I felt for her into my eyes as I watched her tip over the edge, my name on her lips as she cried out. Her body tensed, rocking against me, and then with a heavy sigh, she relaxed. I moved off of her hips and lay stretched alongside her, dropping lazy kisses on her shoulder.

“Cosima?” she asked, taking my hand and toying with my fingers.

“Mmhmm?”

“…Tell me what else you pictured.”

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Being with Delphine wasn’t exactly like I thought it would be. It was more. Just more. Of everything.  Warm nights, lazy days, home cooked meals, and dancing to the record player in the afternoon sun. Talking on the bed until the room grows dark, the angles of her face, her body, lost in shadow. Watching her put on her make up. Letting her try (and fail) to put on mine. Long walks, longer drives, late nights, and laughing until we’re breathless.

So, yeah, like I said.

More love, more passion, more joy.

And no more nightmares.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Thanks for reading! This fic was inspired by true events, in which I attempted to rescue my neighbour with a baseball bat, while wearing not much at all. It turns out she was filming her audition for a horror movie. So things didn’t turn out as well for me as they did for Cosima, but oh well!  
> This was my first Orphan Black fic, so hopefully it wasn’t a terrible disappointment. It was originally posted on fanfiction.net under the username MidnightCoward, but I was asked to upload it here as well! Let me know what you thought, and thanks again for reading.


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